


Who Am I?

by Vegorott



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Gender disphoria, M/M, MtF Transgender, more tags to come as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vegorott/pseuds/Vegorott
Summary: Mr. or Miss. Yandere? Why did one hurt and the other feel right? All Yandere just wants is to be able to look in a mirror without feeling sick.





	Who Am I?

**Author's Note:**

> So...this was just supposed to be a one-shot to go with a headcanon of mine buuuuut, I can’t do this story full justice without delving into it deeper.

Yandere was sitting, curled up tightly in the corner of the couch. His hands wrapped around his stomach and he was fighting the urge to cry.

Everything felt wrong

Everything felt so  _ wrong _

He just wanted to vomit, to scream, to curse, to do anything that would let it all out and he didn’t know why he was dying to do this. 

Yandere slowly forced himself off of the couch and on to his feet, making his way out of the Iplier Manor’s living room one small step at a time and down the hallway, using the walls to help keep himself upright.

He stopped at the mirror. The want to vomit coming back even stronger than before. 

Why did he not look like how he should?

It was like what he was seeing just wasn’t true.

That it was a lie

It wasn’t him.

Him…

Yandere watched as an unexpecting tear roll down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. He knew what he needed to do to get the majority of this feeling to go away. To just leave him alone and to let him feel happiness again. 

He never understood why his school made such a huge deal about which uniform he wore. If he wore a uniform that followed the guidelines that were given, he was in dress code.

The problem was that he was male. 

He had to wear the male uniform. 

He had to wear it no matter how much he hated it or how it felt like it was restricting his body from being able to do anything freely. It felt like it was squeezing at his throat and making it hard to breathe with every glance at a mirror or anything reflective. He had to wear it. He had to. They didn’t care about the deep and painful tearing at the pit of his stomach as he’s forced to wear it, as he’s forced to keep his hair short and his face clear and his nails bare. 

He hated it. 

“Hey, Yan-Yan! Need help with your handkerchief?” Wilford asked cheerfully, having noticed Yandere in his room and struggling. 

“Yes, please.” Yandere admitted, smiling a little as Wilford practically skipped over to him and tied the cloth. 

“You know, we can call the school to allow you to wear this. We both know how good Darky’s at convincing people.” Wilford winked as he finished up, patting the cloth down to make sure it was perfect. 

“It wouldn’t stop the other students from laughing.” Yandere said softly. “I’m a boy.” Yandere felt his tongue burning at those words, why did saying that always make him want to cry? 

“Yan, Yan, honey.” Wilford placed his hands on Yandere’s cheeks when he saw the tears flowing. “Does it hurt when you say that?” 

“I..what?” Yandere blinked. Was was Wilford asking him that? 

“Boys can wear skirts and dresses as well, I’ll admit to having my softer days and just wanting to look pretty, but I know who I am. I’ve fought with myself for a very long time, I’ve stared in the mirror and questioned everything that I saw. Certain things were too big or too small or not in the right place. Something was wrong. It felt wrong.” Yandere’s eyes went wide. “Does this sound familiar?” 

“Y-Yeah.” Yandere stuttered out with a sniff. 

“That’s okay. It happens to some people, the brain and mind can be very confusing to understand, especially when you’re young and you don’t know all the words that can describe how you feel.” Wilford used his thumbs to wipe away some of Yandere’s tears. “I want you to do something for me, okay?” 

“Okay.” Yandere nodded his head. 

“I want you to ask yourself something. Ask yourself what sounds better to hear: Mr. Yandere or Miss. Yandere?” Yandere’s face dropped at that question, not understanding what Wilford was implying. “If you need to talk about it out loud with someone, you can speak to myself or Dark. We’re here for you.” Yandere wasn’t able to speak as Wilford lowered his hands. “Ask yourself,” Wilford added before leaving the room, gently closing the door so Yandere could have some privacy. 

“Miss. Yandere?” Yandere finally spoke after a long pause of silence. Why did he really like the sound of that? “Miss. Yandere.” He repeated again, fingers playing with the hem of his skirt. 

His skirt. 

He felt so much better when he put on his shirt, the way it moved along his legs was freeing as if he wasn’t being held back anymore. He would put on the female uniform and he felt like he was a real person again. Yandere wasn’t an act when he was wearing this. He was himself.

Himself

Him…

“Miss. Yandere.” Yandere went to his closet and opened the door, kneeling down to pull out a shoe box. He slowly lifted the lid and took out every item from it, making a little display in front of him. “Miss. Yandere.” 

Red.

Yandere’s always loved red.

It was a really pretty color

Yandere held up a dark red lipstick and examined it. He’s never put it on. He adores the color of it and knows it would look lovely on him.

But boys don’t wear makeup.

At least that’s what he’s been told. 

“Do I just like girly things?” Yandere asked himself. “Guys can like girly things, Wilford said they can.” Yandere placed the lipstick back in the box and was now holding up some eyeshadow, the gold calling out to her. “There are male makeup artists. There’s nothing wrong with a guy liking girly things.” 

But did guys hate being called guys?

“Miss. Yandere.” Yandere found himself saying that phrase over and over again as he looked over every piece of makeup of his limited collection. He had to steal all of it because people would mock him if they caught him buying it. “Mr. Yandere?” Yandere felt the urge to bite his own tongue when he said that. 

Why did that hurt?

Why did it make him feel nauseous? 

Him.

Him…

_ Him _

_ What is wrong with **her**!? _

Her...

Yandere stiffened when that thought came to mind.

_ Her _

That sounded so much better.

It didn’t hurt.

There was no aching

No pain

No nausea

Her?

She?

“Miss. Yandere.” Yandere could feel tears coming back up and rolling down his face. “Miss. Yandere.” Their voice cracked, their body started to tremble as they sobbed. “Miss. Yandere.” She grabbed her shoebox and hugged it to her chest. 

_ Miss. Yandere. _


End file.
